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The Night Before Christmas 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be...

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God's Garden by Robert Frost God made a beauteous garden With lovely flowers strown, But one straight, narrow pathway That was not overgrown. And to this beauteous garden He brought mankind to live, And said:...

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Robert Frost Biography Robert Frost was arguably one of the finest American poets in the twentieth century. Although he first published his books in England during the 1910s, he returned to America as the most-read and anthologized...

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Starlight

Posted by admin | Posted in Sad | Posted on 24-11-2009

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by Jordan Green

Tiny star winking bright
Dusk and windy- almost night
Hear my wish although unsaid
Search the stories in my head
Slivered moon in clouds of gray
Don’t tell anyone what I say
Lend me just a ray of light
Help me through this nasty night
Have you ever wished for something bad
Made a crazy complicated world so mad
It’s time to wish away all of this pain
Before you make me totally insane
Tiny star in the sky
Why is it I still can’t cry
Or see the words on this page
Will you wish away this rage
Mr. Moon pale aglow
What is it I need to know
To forget myself? This
Is gonna be my last true wish
Have you ever wished for something wrong
Things aren’t our way- we don’t get along
I wish I could erase all of our past
Hurry stars the clouds are moving fast
I never believed in happily ever after
No one can prove me wrong in this disaster
Why can’t you melt away in moonlight
So I can dream of someone else tonight
Have you ever wished upon a solitary star
With hope that things will become better than they are
I’m wondering if wishes come true if they’re not great
I’ve made my wish; I hope it’s not too late

Power Nap

Posted by admin | Posted in Sad | Posted on 24-11-2009

0

by Jordan Green

I lay on a rough-carpeted floor,
my ribs,
hips,
breasts,
and toes, pointed to the darkened ceiling.
My heavy lids
crack,
like an old beagle
sunbathing on a front porch.

I will not rest.

All I can hear is muffled basketballs
bouncing in the gym
below me,
booming like rhythmic barrels
kneading Hukilau sands,
baby heartbeats,
a slow drum roll,
and random kernels snapping
seconds before the time is up.
My head is filled with
thoughts like worms sliding
through a thin funnel.

I will not rest.

I lift my skull from the floor
and scan the dim room–
there are bodies
flung
everywhere, asleep
and not dead.

I will not rest
in peace or in war
in this battlefield.
A parallelogram of
pale light stencils
near the door.
“Time to start waking up.”

Clay figures stretch like
putty
and our dark box is in
motion.
Forty palms spread
toward blinking
fluorescent lights.

I
will not rest.
I will
not rest.
I will not
rest.
I will not rest.